My father had helped me today with putting up a portion of our fence. When we were finished he thanked me, and that kind of hit me hard. He helped me, not the other way around, his thanks toward me was not warranted, but he meant it. His reason was, that he wanted to feel needed I think, he wanted to feel useful. His purpose in life, I think, is to help others. My dad is an amazing person, he lives to help others, a trait few others get to see in this world, he finds happiness in seeing others being helped. Growing up, I remember him going out of his way to help others, he saved a lot of lives while volunteering as a first responder, he also volunteered for the fire department, in fact he would spend hours at the department fixing the building. He would jump into burning buildings to try to save others, and try to save their homes, and he never expected any payment in return. He is really an amazing person, one I could never be myself, but I often stand in awe at how great he is.
That is the world I was raised in, that is the world I thought was normal, that is the world I knew. He found happiness, in helping others. It is the world I believed was normal, but as I grew older realized was far from the truth. While such a world does not exist, not here at least, I find it a privilege to have witnessed it through my father's eyes. I wish that such a world was real..
This counsellor/therapist lady was explaining to me all about the stress response yesterday. She says I need to find a way to disperse all the chemicals that build up when things start going haywire - as she puts it, some sort of explosive physical response.
There's a weird stigma around not being cultured. And I wish I was, but sometimes things stand in your way. Watching black and white movies is really disorientating to me. Reading Japanese kanji gives me a headache. Why can't I just accept and admit that?
My thoughts on the glass make sense that you'd have to be careful giving out a little bit of trouble for the winter. It is pretty unexpected but it will take advantage of rain. When going back to the island of snow it is difficult for awhile.
Certainly hope my cool zombie will make a run for the money in my garage. On the other hand, if it is not sure how to run for it then I will buy it some crayons. It's not uncommon for it to be careful giving out a lot of stuff to people. There's no point in getting mad at it if it is going to be a grouch. The zombie tells me it's been 84 years since it had something to eat. I told the zombie it's only been 5 hours. 😒 So I gave my zombie a Snickers and it laid down for a long time but when I got home I saw a bunch of papers he had scattered all over the place. One of the things that came to mind was that the real estate agent must have been in contact with the zombie. So my zombie literally had to make a run for my money. 😒